


Disabilities

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [30]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint is disabled, Established, M/M, Non-SHIELD AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Clint isn't a SHIELD agent but meets the Avengers; also, he's in a wheelchair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zhalenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhalenn/gifts).



Clint looked up at his husband who was pushing him into the elevator. “Are you sure this okay? They really don’t mind?”

Phil smiled at him and kissed his forehead. “Yes dear. It was either I bring you to them, or they search the whole city looking for you.” He said as the elevator doors closed. Phil punched in his code and the floor number for the common rooms.

"Why would they-"

"Welcome back, Agent Coulson… and company"

Clint flinched at the sound of the voice which came from nowhere. “Thank you, JARVIS. This is my husband, Clint Barton. Clint, the voice you hear is Mr. Stark’s AI.” Clint nodded as soon as Phil was done explaining.

"Welcome, Master Barton."

Before Clint could formulate any type of response, the doors slid open and  _the_  Tony Stark came in. “Agent! There you are! We’ve been waiting for you! Go! Go to the living room! Steve needs help with the food. I’ll take care of your friend.” He says, pushing Phil out the elevator and grinning at Clint. 

Phil sighed and turned to Clint. “Don’t believe anything he says. If he says something mildly believable, ask JARVIS. He’ll confirm.”

Tony scoffed. “That’s adorable, Coulson. You think my AI will rat me out.”

"Actually sir, I-"

"JARVIS,  _shush!”_  Tony practically squeaked. Then made shooing motions at Coulson. Tony pushed Clint out into the hallway and turned the wheelchair towards him. “So, we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Tony Stark.”

"Clint Barton."

"Well Clint, I’d like to say we’ve heard so much about you, but Phil doesn’t really talk much about his private life. So we’re really excited to meet you."

"Thanks, I guess. And, uh… don’t take it too personally. Phil doesn’t talk much about his job either."

"You do know what his job is right?" Tony asks, raising an eyebrow. Tony began pushing again towards the living room.

"He’s an agent of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division. I know. I just meant specifics and stuff. Since you know, You have to have some sort of clearance for that sort of shit."

Tony cocked his head in agreement “Welp, good to know he told you about a secret agency.”

Clint’s brow raised in mock amusement. “He didn’t tell me. I figured it out.”

Tony stopped. “Wait, What?”

"Tony! Clint! Come on! Dinner’s almost done!" Phil’s voice echoed through the hall. Tony shook his head and started pushing again. 

"You owe me that story."

"I owe you nothing."

"I’ll give you the new Stark Phone. pre-release."

"Already have it."

"Okay, what?!"

"What’s going on?" Phil asks as they approach the dining area.

"Tony is trying to bribe me with Stark phones." Clint shrugged.

"In exchange for what?"

"A story."

"Do I know this story?"

"Of course. It’s about you."

"Ah. then don’t tell him."

“ _Agent!”_  Tony cried.

"Will do, sir." Clint gave him a lazy salute.

"I dun like you." Tony sneered at Clint while Phil beamed at him before he kissed Clint’s cheek and pushed the chair towards the living room where a scruffy looking man (there really is no other word for him) sat watching television. 

"Oh, hey!" The man greeted. "You must be Phil’s husband! I’m Bruce." He held out his hand.

"Dr. Bruce Banner, yes. I’m Clint Barton. Phil has told me about you. Says you’re the Avengers go to Doctor."

Bruce chuckled and shook his head slightly. “Uh… I want to say no but it’s actually true. Sadly though, I’m not that kind of doctor.” 

"Of course." Clint smiled at him. "Phil also says not to annoy you or get you angry."

Bruce nodded. “That would be smart. Yes.”

Clint laughed then. A red headed strode into the room, took one look at Clint and marched towards him, and sat on him. Clint blinked. 

"Uhm… Hello." He tried.

"Hi." The woman said. not moving except to look back at Clint. 

"My name is Clint." He tried  _again._

"I know."

Dr. Banner sighed into his hand as if exasperated at watching the same scene over and over again. “Natasha, please get off of Clint.”

The woman- Natasha - promptly got up and turned to face Clint. She stared him down and unsubtle-y at his crotch. “Bruce, sit on him.”

"Natasha, No, I will not sit on our guest."

"How do you feel about knives?" She asked Clint.

"I can throw them pretty accurately."

"Can you use it. Hand to hand, I mean."

"Yeah. definitely."

"I wanna keep him." Natasha says.

Clint blinked and Bruce sighed. “No, Natasha, you cannot keep Phil’s husband.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and moved to the next room. Clint and Bruce’s stares followed after her. “Is she-?” Clint started.

"I have no idea." Bruce answers.

A big blond dude walks in the room next, and by the looks of him, It’s Captain America. And of course, Clint was right. Phil was the biggest Captain America fanboy alive. So the knowledge is passed.

The man - Steve Rogers, if Clint isn’t mistaken - wiped his hands on a towel before reaching out. “Hi, I’m Steve. You must be Clint.” He said flashing that thousand megawatt smile of his. And Clint thought the comics were exaggerating. “It’s nice to meet you.”

"Nice to meet you too, Steve."

"I’m sorry Thor isn’t here to greet you, but he’s in Asgard right now and he has things he needs to do."

"Oh, I don’t mind." He smiled at the man.

"Well then, shall we head to the dining room? You know, before Tony gets dibs on all the mashed potatoes." Bruce said

From a distance, The three men heard Tony yell out. ‘dibs’ Steve scrunched up his nose and hissed. “Too late.” 

Clint chuckled and he was lead to the dining area where Phil just finished lighting up the candles on his cake. 

"Happy Birthday, Clint." Phil says, smiling at Clint. 

Clint grinned back. The Avengers were nothing like they were on TV, but Phil loved them, and Clint found it was actually really hard not to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with the bank robbery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint beats up baddies here. I hope you don't mind. No blood though.

People tended to pity him, when he passed by, especially if he was alone. It gets annoying at times, because he didn’t need special attention. He can take care of himself, thank you very much.

That’s probably why he likes Phil’s dysfunctional family. The Avengers treat him like they would any other person. They don’t coddle him and they even tease him sometimes.

The rest of the world, not so much.

Although its not all bad. There are a few perks to being in a wheelchair. One of those said perks, is being able to cut in lines. 

That particular perk happened to be very useful that day when Clint entered the bank and noticed the absolutely unbelievable queue. He passed by the lot of people and went straight to the teller, her tag claiming to be Kim, Bank Manager. He greeted her and handed her the money and his passbook and waited for a while as said girl answered the phone, while she counted his money. 

 _Some people are just good at multitasking._ He thought. Clint was also thinking about what to cook Phil for dinner when he heard screaming. He turned his head and noticed to armed men standing by it, with a passed out security personnel. 

"EVERYBODY, GET ON THE FLOOR NOW!" One of the men yelled. With clear hesitance, the crowd of people got down on their knees. 

Clint sighed with obvious irritation. “Just once, Just once, I’d like to go out on my own without douchebags getting in my way.” He muttered.

Clint’s back was turned, but he knew that one of the armed gunmen was walking towards him. When the footsteps finally stopped the man addressed Kim. “You. Go open the safe.”

Kim’s hands trembled, but her face remained calm. “I’m sorry, sir. but you’ll have to take a number.”

Clint heard the gun being cocked, and saw the barrel of a 45 mm pistol by the side of his face. “Open it.” The man said again.

"Will that be from your savings or current account?"

Clint smirked at Kim. She was obviously scared out of her wits, but she still had a sense of humor. Clint heard the man pull the hammer but this time, instead of pointing the gun at her, the gun was pointed to Clint’s temple. Kim’s eyes grew as she was silently panicking. “Open it. now.” The man says.

"I’m truly sorry sir. But it’s against bank policies." Kim says.

"OPEN IT, OR I’LL BLOW THIS GUY’S BRAIN OUT." the man started yelling and Kim flinched.

Clint cringed. “Hey man, think you can lower your voice? She’s right there. She can hear you fine.”

Clint’s chair was turning before he knew what was going on. God, he hated it when they did that. “What’d you say to me, punk?”

Clint rolled his eyes. He was so done with this. “She says to take a number. Wait, like everyone else.” 

The man points the barrel of his gun to Clint’s face and smirks. “Try that-” Clint struck the man’s hand just above the wrist, possibly breaking it in the process and caught the pistol when the man dropped it. The man started screaming in pain, as he fell to the floor on his knees. 

Clint clicked his tongue “Oh shut up.” he said to the man, and grabbed the man’s head and slammed it to his knee, knocking the man out. 

The other man came running towards Clint and backhanded the archer with his gun then held Clint at gun point. “Gimme the gun.” the man says, as he inched closer to Clint.

Clint held out the gun without a fuss, and as soon as the man had the two guns, and was close enough. Clint gave him a swift punch to the stomach making the man keen over. Clint then threw an uppercut to the man’s jaw sending him upright again. Clint delivered the final blow to the man’s crotch, making him howl with pain and finally pass out.

Clint cocked his head to the side. “Stupid bastard. Gun wasn’t even loaded.” He muttered as he saw that the second man’s gun didn’t even have a magazine.

He then turned back to Kim and smiled. “Can I have my passbook back?” He asked.

Kim stared at him for a few moments, before handing him the passbook and the proof of transaction. “Thanks.” Clint said, and pushed his wheel chair away from the teller’s desk and out of the bank.

Maybe he should cook Beef and potato stew, tonight. Phil loved Beef and potato stew and they haven’t had it in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/88864505426/looks-at-stack-of-unfinished-stuff-i-should-do)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Tony is trying to be nice.

Steve heard whistling. 

Which in itself, weird. Nobody in the tower  _ever_  whistled. Not even on their happiest days. So Steve decided to do whatever it is a normal human being did. He followed the whistling.

Steve had found himself in the living room, but there was no one around. The whistling still continued though. So he proceeded to the kitchen where Clint was tossing dough. Steve’s brows furrowed, when did they get anything close to food that wasn’t take-out?

"Clint?"

The whistling stopped and Clint looked at him, completely forgetting about the dough in the air, making it land on his head. “Hey Steve.” Clint greeted while under the dough. “Watchu up to?”

Steve laughed and walked over to the man while Clint tried to get all of the flour that was stuck in his head. “Nothing. I just heard whistling and I was wondering what was going on. I didn’t know you make pizza.”

Clint was starting over with the dough, taking the a second dough ball he’d set aside and flattened it a few times with a rolling pin. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Steve.”

"Yeah. Like you could make pizza." Clint laughed at that. "Where did you even get the ingredients. I didn’t think the tower had anything other than take-outs."

"Oh, it didn’t. I went grocery shopping after I stopped by the bank." He explains as he tosses the dough in the air. "You know, for a man who claims to be a billionaire, Tony Stark has an alarming lack of food in his house."

Steve rolls his eyes. “Tell me about it. I mean, there’s always pop tarts available because everybody secretly loves them, but blames Thor, but that’s about it.”

"That’s too bad, Have you seen your kitchen? Top of the line everything man! A five star chef would drool over these stuff. And you guys don’t even use it. "

"Good thing you’re here then." 

"Yeah. Good thing." Clint dropped the dough unto the counter and he placed a generous amount of tomato sauce and cheese on it. "Requests?" He asks Steve. 

"Definitely Pepperoni" Tony says from the doorway.

"I like Bacon." Steve offers. 

"We’re having a pizza party.why did no one tell me we were having a pizza party?" Tony asks the two blondes. He was ignored.

"Pepperoni and Bacon. anything else?"

"Pineapples." Natasha pops up from fucking nowhere. 

"Canned, good?" Clint asks, and Natasha shrugs.

"Aww, but I don’t like Pineapples." Tony whines.

"Too bad, I do." Natasha says.

"It’s cool we can make it half and half. then later, I can just make another batch." Clint whistles again as he arranges the toppings and the other three argue about pizza toppings.

Then Tony stills. He stares at Clint as the blonde puts the pizza in the oven. 

"Hey Clint." Clint hums. "I can make you fly." All three heads snap their attention to Stark. "No really. Give me a few hours with your chair, and I can give it tons of upgrades. It’ll be cool. Like that guy from Kim Possible. I can make your chair as awesome - no, more awesome than that! I can-"

"Tony. I appreciate the offer, but I like this chair. I had it customized and all. It has secrets that nobody else knows." Tony raises an eyebrow at him and Clint rolls his eyes. "Fine, I’ll show you one. You know how Natasha always seem to have a weapon no matter how tight her cat suit is?" Natasha raises a brow. "I have something similar. Watch." 

Clint pries off the wood underneath his right arm rest and presses a button. A recurve bow, automatically springs out. all sleek and cool-looking. then Clint touches the right arm rest and pulls out a thin arrow with a black arrowhead. He nocks the arrow, draws and releases. He does all this in under a 3 seconds. The arrow has pierced a flower in the living room display and is now resting dead center of the letter A in a magazine safely tucked in a magazine rack. 

Natasha smiles, Steve is awed and Tony’s jaw is on the floor. He walks up to Clint and looks at the bow. “That is amazing.”

"Thanks. It’s saved my life more times than I care to count."

"I could make it better though. get the release time faster, the bow sturdier, but more flexible-"

"Tony." Steve reprimands.

"What? I’m just trying to be nice!"

"You’re trying to be sneaky and get a look at Clint’s bow." Steve rolls his eyes.

"Okay, I was. But can you blame me? I mean, come on, Spangles! Look at it! In the words of Agnes: It’s so awesome I’m gonna die."

"I don’t think that’s how it goes." Steve says.

"Oh Shut up, Steve. What do you know about my references? You’re a capsicle."

"But I just-"

"Look, Tony. No thanks. I can do things on my own, and that includes upgrading my own bow. I might not be as good as you, but I can do an okay job too."

"Wait. You made this?" Tony asks, with wide eyes.

"I did tell you I customized it, didn’t I?"

"You did, but I thought- With you know- and wow."

"One thing you should all know about Clint, is that he doesn’t like to be coddled." Coulson steps in through the kitchen doors and makes a beeline for Clint, giving him a kiss on the head. "He likes to be independent and does things his own way. So no unauthorized upgrades on his chair."

Tony avoided eye-contact with anybody by looking down at his nails. He looked up and saw everyone looking at him. He rolls his eyes and groans. “Fine, I promise, I won’t steal Clint’s chair to make unauthorized upgrades. There! Happy?”

"Peachy." Phil says dryly. "Is the pizza ready yet?" He asks his husband.

"Almost a few more minutes. I put your favorite. Pastrami." Clint grins at Phil who smiles back at him, and leans down to kiss Clint. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/90076705191/im-preparing-my-military-uniform-for-monday-i)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where there's first meetings, proposals, and wheel chair sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Clint is basically telling these stories to the avengers. So if you don't feel comfy about the sex being told to the public, feel free to skip that part (It's the last italicized part)
> 
> Also, I’m not sure if it’s a thing in other countries, but HOT SEAT is basically a game we play that has one person[usually a new guy] answer any and all questions from the surrounding party. No exceptions.

One thing you needed to know about the Avengers is that when they’re not off saving the world or training, they’re usually in the kitchen, eating. They could seriously bankrupt a restaurant in a single afternoon.

That being said, this was a normal day at the tower and they were all gathered in the living room, discarded boxes of pizza, chinese take-out, shawarma, popcorn, pop tarts, sodas, beer and chips scattered before them. There was no real reason as to why they were gathered, just that there was food. Oh, and Clint was on the hot seat.

Thor bellowed out a burp to shame all burps and laughter echoed throughout the room. 

"Aw, man! That’s so gross." Tony said, laughing as he did so.

"I apologize, Is it not customary for midgardians to show their appreciation of their host through burping?" Thor apologized with a huge shit eating grin.

"It is, but not all countries practice that custom. Here, it’s considered rude." Clint pointed out, taking another swig from the bottle in his hands.

"Yeah. That." Tony said eloquently. "Anyway, Lemme think of a question." Steve bent over and whispered something that made Tony’s eyes light up. "Got it! How did you and Agent meet?" He grinned taking the glory for the question as the rest of the Avengers cheered and waited for Clint to start the story.

Clint shook his head and turned to Coulson who just smiled at him. That wasn’t a no, So Clint decided to continue. “It was actually 6… no, 7. 7 years ago… I was a lieutenant for the US Marines and we were in Coahuila. The US Government decided to get involved with the Mexican Drug War and send us in. We were there for 5 months, I think. Up until these guys showed up.” Clint jerked his thumb over to Phil. “Said they were with the Government, never really said which part.”

—-

_Bullets were raining down on his team and they’ve already lost a few men. This wasn’t even a fight that the US government was supposed to be involved with. He called out to the men in his unit to take cover as the enemy (Honestly, Clint didn’t even know who they were fighting anymore.) loaded what looked like an M20B1._

_They held their ground up until the firing stopped and Clint had to look at the man beside him with a raised brow. “Stay down.” He ordered his men as he peered over the rock he was hiding behind._

_Like a scene from a movie, with the dust cloud clearing; a lone figure in a black suit was walking towards him. Except this wasn’t a movie. Clint held his ground and raised his gun. “Stop right there and Hold your hands up.”_

_The figure did as he was told and spoke. “Lt. Barton. My name is Phil Coulson. I’m a US government agent. I was sent here to give you your orders.”_

_"Me and my men have our orders." The dust had finally cleared up and Clint could see the man’s face. He was wearing sunglasses and a cheeky smile. In his hand was a piece of paper that had the government seal on it - like,_ actual _wax seal._

_"This is a different order." Coulson stated._

_—-_

"Wait, so when you two met, you were pointing guns at each other?" Bruce asked.

"Technically, it was just Clint." Phil reasoned.

"Excuse me, Who’s telling the story here?" Clint interrupted.

—-

_Clint read the contents of the paper over and over but it still said the same thing: To go with the dangerous ~~ly handsome~~  man and his big ass plane. _

_"Where are you taking us?" Clint asked Coulson, even as he folded the piece of paper and pocketed it._

_"Back to US soil, where your services will be utilized much more suitably." Coulson replied as the soldiers loaded the plane which left Clint and Phil on the ground._

_"Yeah. Right." Clint nodded along. "Speaking of which, how did you manage to… uhm…" Clint gestured to the unmoving bodies._

_"Oh, They’re not dead. Their bodies are in a state of sleep that’ll last for 15 more minutes. In which time, we’re out of here."_

_"Mind telling me what weapon that is?"_

_Phil scrunched up his nose. Clint may or may not have found it adorable. “Maybe next time.”_

_"Oh, you’re assuming there’s a second date, Agent Coulson?" Clint asked playfully._

_"There’s going to be a second date, Lieutenant, If I have a say about it." Phil waggled his eyebrows and Clint ducked his head to laugh._

_—-_

"So you guys met in a war zone?" Steve asked.

"Yep." Phil and Clint answered at the same time.

"I’m not sure if that’s really cheesy, or really cool." Tony commented.

"Cheesy, definitely." Natasha answered. "My turn to ask the question… Hmmm… Who proposed? and how?."

Clint thought back to roughly 4 years ago. There was debate in him if he should tell the story, so he did what he always does; he turned to Phil. Phil simply smiled at him and shrugged. Guess that’s an okay, then.

—-

_Phil tried not to run when he heard the news. He tried not to interrupt Director Fury in his briefing with the level 8s. He tried to keep his composure when he saw what happened to Clint._

_He failed._

_Clint was quietly sleeping in the cot and his face was bandaged, covering one eye and stains of blood dotting the cloth. The beeping of the heart monitor a constant reminder that Clint was still alive - Thank God, for that - but he was also badly hurt._

_The doctors had spoken with Clint since he was put inside this room, and Coulson has since then read the medical and field reports about Clint’s last tour._

_They were in Afghanistan, casualties were inevitable but Clint tried not to have them on his team. There was too much at stake for the men in this unit and they all had families to go back to. All of them did. So when a fellow soldier was in the direct line of fire, Barton helped him get back to safety. There was no hesitation in his mind._

_Barton got shot in the hamstring for his trouble and he went down. The soldier tried to go back and help him, but Barton saw the missile that landed 5 feet away from him, He told them to move, as he scrambled for cover. He wasn’t able to get as far as he’d wanted to and after the missile detonated, he blacked out, opening his eyes again to a white room with a doctor next to him, retelling what had happened and telling him news that he was too drugged to even comprehend as real. He passed out again soon after._

_Barton woke up again with warm hands encasing his. As he moved his head and blurry eye around to see who the hands belonged to, the hand tightened its grip, and instantly, Clint knew it was Phil’s._

_"Good Morning." Phil said._

_'Morning.' was what was supposed to come out instead of a bunch of gurgles._

_Phil smiled at that, and Clint felt a swell of pride for being the reason to that smile. “So, the doctors told you what happened?”_

_Clint grunted as he struggled to sit up, dead weight keeping him still. Phil helped him with the bed and his pillows until Clint was sitting up. “I heard something about paralysis. And by the feeling, I’m guessing it’s my legs.”_

_Phil remained silent._

_"I can understand you know." Clint said instead. Phil looked up at him. "You know, if you left."_

_"What?"_

_"If you left me, right here, right now. I would understand. I don’t want to hold you back."_

_Phil gently shook his head. “Clint, I-“_

_"You know, it’s really weird… I’m not panicking that I lost all feeling below my hip. I thought I’d be a wreck. I thought I’d at least cry over it." Clint tried for a smile but it turned bitter just as quickly. "But right now, I’m more afraid of what happens when you leave… I’m so scared that if you do stay, one day you’re going to wake up and realize that you can’t do this. That you can’t be by my side anymore. That it’s just too much trouble… Which is why I’m saving us both that pain. I’m giving you the chance to leave me now because I love you too much to watch you walk away knowing you’re sick of me." Clint gripped the sheets hard._

_Phil wordlessly stood up and walked out the door, closing it gently behind him. Clint silently cried in his bed, and gripped the sheets even harder. This was what he wanted. This was better. For both of them. Even more so for Phil._

_But Phil came back, not more than 30 minutes later. Clint was getting his blood taken and the door suddenly burst open to a disheveled looking Coulson. He was panting, his tie was askew, his hair a mess, and - was that sweat?_

_Clint blinked as his eyebrows shot up. The nurse was just as surprised as he was._

_Phil marched right up to him and unceremoniously dropped a bouquet of flowers unto Clint’s lap. “I didn’t want to do this here, I planned something perfect. Something romantic, and cheesy, and we both know you love. But what you said earlier made me realize that waiting would just mean losing you. And I can’t live with myself if I let that happen. So I went to the nearest flower shop I could find which was probably not a good idea, since we’re in the middle of the fucking desert, and it took me a while, because like I said: desert, but I got you flowers and this whether I like it or not, this is as perfect as its gonna get with our lives, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. So, Clint Barton…” Clint’s breath hitched as Phil got down on one knee and pulled out a velvet box. “Will you marry me?” He opened it to reveal a simple silver band with a bow carved into it._

_Clint couldn’t speak, but he shakily nodded. Phil grinned at him, slipping the band into Clint’s ring finger, and hugging his_ fiance.  _They pulled apart and rested their foreheads together and grinning at each other like the idiots they were before they finally sealed the whole thing with a kiss._

_"Awwwwwww" The nurse cooed, they broke apart and looked at the nurse in the realization that, ‘Right. They weren’t alone’ The nurse winced. "Sorry. I ruined the moment. I’m just- I’m- yeah. I’m gonna go." The nurse jerked her thumb to the door after gathering her things and finally left. After the door closed behind her, they both laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation._

_—-_

"Tony… Are you… crying?" Bruce asked as he peered closer at Tony. 

"No!" Tony protested even as his voice cracked. "I’m drunk!" He tried rubbing his eyes.

"Tony, you had nothing but sodas the whole night." Steve pointed out.

"Says you, Spangles! Why are you all picking on me, anyway?! Pick on Thor!" the genius whined, as Thor pointed to himself and mouthed ‘Me?’

Then with a cheery tone, He bellowed “Very well, My turn has come to inquire about the Son of Coul’s relationship with Clinton.”

"Aww, dude. I told you not to use that name." Clint scrunched up his nose.

"If they get to pick on me, Thor gets to call you Clinton. It’s only fair." Tony said with pout. 

"Well then, How do you consummate your love for each other?"

They all stared a moment at Thor until Steve spoke up. “Was that-?”

"You wanna know about our sex lives?" Phil clarified, and Thor nodded. Tony sprang back up to life

"Yes. Do elaborate. As I myself am curious." Tony leers at Clint. And the rest of the Avengers sort of just scooted closer.

"You all are perverts. I hope you know that." Phil said, before taking a long drink from his beer. Clint laughed but it took that as the go signal.

—-

_The awarding ceremony had finally ended and they had an hour to go before the dinner prepared for the guests. They’d been itching to touch each other since Clint first wore his Dress Uniform that morning. In his cammies, Clint was unbearably hot. In his civvies, he was irresistible. In his Dress Uniform, He’s a walking tease - figuratively._

_As soon as the door had closed Phil practically jumped the man. Clint barely had time to pull the brake before Phil was on him. Not that he was complaining. Phil was making out with him, albeit messily, he wasn’t about to stop that._

_"Do you have any idea how delicious you look in that?" Phil growled in his ear, nibbling at it, then moving down his neck and sucking on the exposed skin._

_"Why don’t you show me?" Clint challenged and Phil bit Clint’s bottom lip in retaliation, making Clint groan and-_

_—-_

"There is no way Agent said that." Tony interrupts.

Natasha throws one of her many knives at him and it lands right by Tony’s toes which immediately shuts him up.

Clint snickers “As I was saying…”

—-

_The medals on Clint’s chest clinked, but Phil was careful not to be too rough to actually jostle the placements of it. One by one he undid the clasps until Clint was just wearing his white shirt, the Blue dress on the bed, completely forgotten._ _Clint did the same to Phil’s suit jacket and tie, forgotten on the bed._

_Phil immediately worked his way to Clint’s pants and freed the hardening cock underneath the clothes as he nibbled on Clint’s skin._

_Clint pushed Phil softly and gasped out a soft “Wait.” Phil paused to look at him. “I can’t get my pants dirty.” Phil smirked devilishly._

_"I came prepared." Phil said, fishing a condom out of his pocket. He ripped the package open and slid it on Clint._

_Phil then stepped back and stripped off his pants and his underwear, leaving him with just his dress shirt. groaning a little, he reached behind him and pulled out a purple butt plug - wasn’t that a sight. Then Phil climbed the chair. His legs easily hanging off of the sides over the armrest, his hands on the push handle, and his ass perfectly aligned with Clint’s cock._

_Clint helped Phil ease into it, but Phil had other plans, as soon as Clint was a few good inches inside him, he slammed himself unto Clint’s dick in a way that made them both see stars._

_Clint pulled down Phil’s neck to gather him into a kiss as Phil worked to thrust Clint into him. Phil went faster whenever Clint grunted and deeper whenever he moaned, until it was all just rough thrusts that were sending them both dangerously close to the edge._

_Clint took Phil in his hands, and started pumping in time with Phil’s thrusts making Phil keen and arch his back, moaning and screaming his name. In turn, Phil tightened, sending jolts of pure unadulterated pleasure throughout Clint’s body and soon enough they both came. Clint in the condom, and Phil on Clint._

_Phil collapsed on Clint’s shoulders and they waited until their breaths evened out. “I thought I told you I couldn’t get my pants dirty?” Clint said in a mocking tone._

_Phil pulled away and looked down at the mess, “It’s just our shirts. Relax, I brought extra.”_

_"Of course you did." Clint said giving Phil a lazy kiss._

_Phil returned the kiss, not as lazily._

_—-_

"And I shit you not, Wheelchair sex is Phil’s favorite kind of sex." Clint grinned cheekily. 

"What kinks have you guys used?" Tony asked

"Do you have fetishes?" Steve joined in

"How many times do you make love to the son of Coul in a single night?" Thor asked again.

"Have you ever done it in public?" Bruce uncharacteristically joined.

"Do you use toys?" Natasha inquired.

"OOOOOKAY! I think you’ve gotten to know my husband well enough." Phil interrupted before Clint could answer anymore questions. 

"Aww, Agent! It was just getting good." Tony whined.

"Frankly, I think one sex story was too much."

Clint shrugged. “You heard the boss.” He waggled his eyebrows at the team even as he was being lead into the elevator by Phil.

When the elevator doors closed, Natasha spoke. “ _Usually Military, Phil’s glasses, 2-4 times depending on mood, Yes, Yes._ " 

"Pardon?" Thor asked. 

"Clint answered the questions." Steve whispered.

"How?" Bruce asked.

"Morse. He was tapping on his leg." Natasha explained.

"He managed to deliver that long a message in seconds?" Tony asked.

"He’s a fast writer, I’m a fast reader." Natasha shrugged and reached for the remote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/92259438596/i-overslept-and-skipped-my-last-class-entirely)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Tony (accidentally) destroys the chair

They’ve denied him access. They should’ve known they  _shouldn’t_  deny Tony Stark anything. Everybody knows that if you say no to Tony Stark, he’s got to have whatever it is. 

'It' in this case was Clint's chair.

Making Tony Stark curious? Yeah. Never a good idea. And have you  _seen_ Clint’s chair? That thing was a masterpiece! There were so many hidden secrets and after Clint had pulled the bow and arrow thing, Tony wanted to dismantle it and build Clint a better one. 

It’ll be like a welcome to the family kind of gift. 

It’ll be awesome and Clint was gonna love it.

And all Tony had to do was steal the chair and make appropriate adjustments and tweaks to it and it’ll be perfect.

—-

A horrible, horrible disaster. 

That’s what this plan was. A horrible disaster that no one talked him out of. And now, Clint’s chair was in smoldering ruins. Absolutely burned to a crisp and no hope of saving. 

Tony was so totally screwed. He was going to have to escape the tower. Maybe live off at a deserted island somewhere, or maybe a five star resort in the Caribbean, either way he’s going to have to start a new life. Change his name, shave off his goa-

"Hey Tony, Have you seen- Oh my god. What have you done?" Steve asked with wide eyes at the still smoking, still being extinguished chair in Tony’s lab.

"I swear, it was an accident." Tony quickly said.

"Tell me." Steve asked him calmly because the last thing they needed to do now was start a screaming match.

"I wanted to give Clint a surprise welcome to the family present so I decided to modify his chair to make it more awesome but the wires in the main systems exploded and the thrusters I replaced the wheels with, malfunctioned and it spiraled from there. Long story-short, It exploded while I was calibrating the wheels." Tony explained.

"We have to tell them. Everybody is looking for the chair.  _You_  have to tell them, Tony.” Steve understood that Tony’s intentions were good, but the chair was irreplaceable. No matter how rich Tony was, he couldn’t replace the chair.

Tony nodded slowly and followed Steve up to the living room.

—-

It wasn’t good. Clint’s reaction was just as Tony had expected it. He was devastated and furious. He wasn’t angry at Tony though. Which was weird because if he was Clint, he’d demand to land a punch or two to the guy’s face. Not that Tony would say no. 

Clint wasn’t mad. Instead, he made his way to the elevator with his temporary (generic) wheel chair and went back to their suite. 

"I’ll go talk to him." Phil said after a while and he followed Clint.

—-

"Are you okay?" Phil asked.

“‘Mfine.” Clint mumbled just as he was taking out a huge suit case. 

"What are you doing?" 

"I’m moving out of here." He said, taking his clothes and stuffing them into the case.

"I thought you said you were okay?"

"Damn it, Phil. I am. I’m okay! What I’m not okay with is them touching my chair! Much less destroying it." He swiveled to turn to Phil. "I don’t care if he buys me a million chairs. I don’t want to stay here anymore."

"Okay. Calm down. Please. Let’s talk about this."

"There’s nothing to talk about, Phil. I’m moving out, that’s that. You can come with me if you want to, or don’t. I’ll understand."

"What?"

Clint sighed. “I know how much you like it here. Plus they’re basically your job. I can understand if, you know, you choose to stay.”

"Clint. I’m not leaving you. For any reason. If you’re moving out, then I’m coming with you. All I’m asking is for you to hear out Tony. He’s ridiculous and a little bit spoiled but I know that he meant well. He doesn’t just offer to improve someone’s chair. He feels like you’re family and wanted to surprise you. Something just went wrong. Please, at least try to let him make it up to you." Phil said to him.

—-

Clint and Phil were down in the common floor again after half an hour. As soon as Clint was out of the elevator, Tony practically jumped him. 

"I’m really really  _really_  sorry about what happened. Please, You can punch me, you can hurt me anything. Just please don’t leave.” Tony told him.

"How did-" Oh. Right. JARVIS.

"I really am sorry Clint. I didn’t mean to incinerate your chair. I’ll make you prosthetic legs! Yeah! I can totally do that! I’ll make you prosthetic legs just like Steve’s friend James! except his was an arm. But yours will be cooler because I made it, I can make them in two days if I pull myself together and initiate lockdown on the lab. Maybe a day and a half."

"Tony. I’m not leaving."

"You’re not?"

"No. And thank you for the offer of the legs, but I don’t need them. Instead, will you help me remake my old chair?" Clint asked.

Tony’s eyes widened and he beamed happily. “Yes!” He cleared his throat and started over. “I mean, uh, yeah. Sure. If you really want me to. I guess I can spare a moment or two” Tony tried for nonchalant but he wasn’t fooling anyone. 

Within the next minute, they were talking about specs and designs and that the old chair had, the modification Tony would like to install and the modifications that Clint thinks is  _actually_  going to be useful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr.](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/93317458631/i-think-i-might-be-addicted-to-blueberry)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Phiiiiiiiiiiiiw. Pleath don leev. I don trus em tha wew yet." Clint was stuck in the bed, holding out his hand in a vain attempt to reach out to Phil as he was dressing himself for work.

Phil tightened his tie as he walked over to his bed-ridden husband. He sat beside him and crouched down to kiss Clint’s temple. “I told them what to do, they won’t disturb you unless you specifically ask for help. I’ll be gone real quick. An hour minimum. A day tops. If I don’t-“

"Yea, Yea… If you don za word goes voom" Phil smiled and promised one more time that he’ll be back as soon as he can. Sooner if possible. Clint nodded in understanding and shooed Phil away. The sooner he goes, the sooner he’ll get back. 

In the meantime, Clint let himself drift off to sleep. An hour, in an hour Phil will be back. He can sleep that hour off. 

Well, theoretically. 

Realistically, Clint hated being sick because when he gets sick, his bowel betrays him and only 15 minutes had passed yet he desperately needs to use the toilet. Too bad just moving his head to look for his chair hurts everything inside his skull. He groaned out loud and decided he didn’t need to be stubborn about getting help now that he can barely move his head around. 

"Javeez?"

"Yes, Master Barton."

"Iz adyone inda dower?"

"Only Sir and Captain Rogers are in the vicinity as of the moment, Shall I inform them that you might require assistance?"

"Juz Steeb pleath."

There was a few minutes of silence before there was a knock on the door. Clint groaned out loud and Steve took it as permission to poke his head in. “Hey, Clint. JARVIS says you wanted me to help you with something?” 

"Steeeeeeb. Pleath hep be to ba chair. A nee doilet" Steve furrowed his eyebrows for a second, then he nodded and moved around the room to grab Clint’s chair for him, pushing it next to Clint’s side of the bed. Steve also helped Clint sit up before he asked if he needed help getting moving to the chair. Clint refused the offer but thanked Steve with his nasally vocabulary anyway. 

—-

Later, Clint woke up to a sound in the hallway that sounded a lot like Tony cursing. 

Then light streamed in through the door as Tony entered the room.Clint continued to stare at the genius but specifically at the breakfast tray he was carrying. “Hey Clint.” 

Clint groaned.

"We made you food!" Tony sounded so proud. "The tea is from Bruce, he says it’ll help clear your throat and your nose. The Pop-Tarts are from the resident god. and I made the chicken soup. Well, I say made, but I just really heated up canned soup." Clint raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, fine. Steve heated up the soup. I’m just the messenger. Now sit up so you can taste what Avengers love is like."

Clint smiled despite himself. He wasn’t feeling as bad as he did earlier, so he was able to get himself to sit up all on his own. Tony excitedly placed the tray on Clint’s lap and sat on the bed, watching intently as Clint picked up the spoon. “A you gonna wash me eat?”

"Yes." was Tony’s straightforward answer, okay then. 

Before Clint finished his food, all the other Avengers came in, Steve held playing cards in his hand and suggested they play poker. Surprisingly, Steve had an amazing poker face. 

When Phil came back, they were still playing so Phil shucked his jacket and played along with them, Clint’s cold forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/95188834976/thanks-to-the-anon-that-sent-me-the-suggestion-on)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> As usual, if you want me to continue this fic,[send me a line](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/ask) so I can add it to my queue. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He wasn’t nervous.

Of course he wasn’t nervous. He has great aim. He could even do this blindfolded. Right. Of course. See? Nothing to be worried about.

Except for the fact that he was in the finals and his competitor was  _scary_  good. Not that that mattered of course, he was going to win that medal and he’s going to bring home that damn bacon. 

Plus the Avengers were there to cheer him on, so he at least got that to keep him calm. He looked over to the stands where Thor, Tony, and Steve were all waving at him frantically. Bruce was holding a camera pointed at him while Natasha just sort of stood there and gave him a nod. Phil was with them too. He was smiling at Clint and then gave him two thumbs up. Clint grinned back.

The announcer called his name and he may have flinched a little bit. It was now or never then. He took a deep breath and let it all out in a sigh.

Right.

He could do this.

—-

The crowd cheered.

It only registered to Clint what had happened a good few seconds after he had fired his last shot. He looked around then back at the target board across the field. 

He did it.

He did it!

_He actually did it!_

He faced the crowd in the stands where Phil and the Avengers were, but they weren’t there. He frowned a bit before he was tackled with a hug from behind. 

It was Phil. 

The Avengers circled him, offering congratulations and pats on the back. Thor even tried to lift his chair until Clint profusely refused with his chair a few inches off the ground.

It was a beautiful moment. He’d never felt so happy to be surrounded by the people he called family - and he hasn’t even gotten his gold medal yet. 

Afterwards, Tony had insisted on a celebration. It was a small celebration but it was intimate. Everyone was there. Pepper, Rhodey and Happy, Jane, Darcy and Selvig, Bucky, Sam, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Phil’s team and even Betty was there. 

Needless to say, it was the  _best day ever_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/100403345641/i-woke-up-fairly-early-today-so-i-got-to-do-my)


	8. Chapter 8

They’d won by a landslide. Clint’s team were unstoppable once they handed the ball to Clint. Three-pointer or half-court, it didn’t matter. When the ball was given to Clint and they needed the shot Clint always made it.

Of course, Clint didn’t hog the spotlight. He’d occasionally pass the ball only acting as assist and really only shooting when it looked like the other team might catch up - they didn’t.

Phil of course was there. He always was. Aside from cheering on his husband to play basketball, he also might have found an appreciation of a sweaty, happy Clint - but nobody needed to know that.

Clint pushed his chair toward the stands where Phil was hiding from the sun like the vampire that Clint knew that he was. Phil stood up, meeting Clint halfway with his water bottle and a towel.

"Whoa there." Clint held up his hand. Phil immediately stopped in his tracks. "Wouldn’t want you shriveling up and turning to dust, now would we?" Clint gestured to his feet.

Phil looked to find that he was an inch of shadow away from getting under the sun. Phil pulled his sunglasses down low enough so that he could give Clint a  _very_  unimpressed look - Clint just grinned at him. Phil rolled his eyes with a huff. “You need to stop hanging out with Stark. He’s a terrible influence.” And just to spite him, Phil stepped away from the shadows and into the sunlight with Clint.

Clint chuckled before he took a long gulp of the water Phil handed him, the towel hanging over his shoulder. He let out a satisfied sigh and Phil smiled at him. “It kind of makes sense why he thinks you’re a vampire though. You do wear nothing but long sleeves and suits - though they look  _wonderful_  on you - plus the completely unnecessary albeit totally cool shades you wear. You’re scarily fast and you have this look that you use on people to get them to do what they want. All vampires do that.”

"Okay. First off, let me reiterate.  _Stark is a terrible influence._  Second: I wear the suit because I’m required to. Third: I was trained to be fast. Fourth: It’s called a glare. And it obviously doesn’t work on you.”

Clint grinned up at him. “Yeah. I find those adorable.”

"Lastly: How would you know what a vampire is like? You’ve never met one."

"How would you know?"

Phil huffed a laugh. “ _Please._  You wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to brag to me about meeting an actual vampire.”

Clint was about to argue before he thought better of it and nodded his head. “True.”

Phil hummed before he took their stuff and handed it to Clint, ready to go home. When they were in the car, Clint in the front seat next to Phil, Clint asked, “Hey, why don’t I drive?” 

"I’m not sure if that’s a rhetorical question or not."

"It’s not. Come on. Let me drive."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Aside from the fact that you physically cannot drive this car, I fear for civilian lives if you happen to be behind the wheel of a car."

“ _Well._ " Clint mock gasped and crossed his arms. "You’re just full of insults today aren’t you?"

Phil chuckled and gave Clint a kiss on the cheek as apology. “We’ll ask Stark can do anything to modify the car.”

—-

Of course Stark can modify the car. He is both insulted and affronted at the assumption that he cannot - and he is aware that both words are similar in nature - and they should give him a few hours to work on it.

—-

Phil was not a man easily spooked. After everything he’s been through as an agent of SHIELD? He’s (kind of) taken scared out of his dictionary.

Up until Clint started driving again. The first time Clint drove was, frankly, terrifying. Phil had never gripped unto the upholstery as tight as he did. It was almost funny. 

almost.

Clint had knocked over three tire piles, crushed thirteen cones and had gone over 100mph less than 5 minutes in the track that Tony had let them borrow to practice.

Phil had never been grateful of Tony Stark’s wealth up until now. If Clint was let loose into the city streets like this, Phil is afraid the Avengers might be needed to stop him.

Needless to say, they stayed in the track until Phil was sure that Clint could keep his road raging to a minimum and at least follow traffic rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/103642934131/oh-god-my-room-smells-so-bad-theres-something)


	9. An alternative cause of Clint's paralysis

"Do I know you?"

Clint looked up to see Tony Stark frowning at him, like he was trying to place the familiar face. 

Before Clint had agreed to meet the Avengers, he’d profusely said no. Not because he thought that the Avengers would belittle him or treat him like he’s stupid just because he was in a wheelchair, but because Tony Stark was there. 

Clint doesn’t hate Tony Stark because let’s face it. Tony Stark is the hero we all dreamed we could be. He likes Tony just fine. He just can’t stare at the man too long without remembering what had happened in Afghanistan.

Both Clint and Phil were mature enough to know that Clint’s paralysis was not caused by Mr. Stark. They both do not hold a grudge against the man. It wasn’t his fault. 

Clint laughed light hearted-ly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, Mr. Stark.”

Tony waved his hand in front of him in dismissal. “Tony, please. Any husband of agent is a friend of mine.” He grinned then quickly added, “Not that he has other husbands… Anyway, you were saying?”

"I’m not sure you want to know where you saw me from. It’s in the past, after all." Clint said to him.

Sometimes, when Clint has nightmares, its about Afghanistan. But it’s not his worst. Besides, Clint has had millions of hours of therapy to deal with it paid for by Stark Industries after Afghanistan, so it isn’t that much of a sore spot for him any more.Mr. Stark though, well, he was a civilian. And superhero or not, going through something like that had to have been traumatic. Clint wasn’t willing to open Tony’s old wounds.

"If you don’t wanna tell me, I won’t push. But fair warning: I will get it out of you once we’re friends."

"You should probably tell him now, he’ll only annoy you ‘til you give in. That’s what he did to me." Phil stepped up behind him and lightly touched his shoulder. Clint looked up at him and Phil nodded. Clint nodded back at Phil before he turned to Mr. Stark again.

"It was Afghanistan. I was one of the soldiers you rode with when you were leaving the demonstration site."

Tony stared at him for a while with a slack jawed expression then blinked rapidly as he shook his head clear. “Yes. Yes, of course. I remember you. You were the one in the front seat, right?”

Clint smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’m glad to see you’re okay, Mr. St- Tony.”

"I’m glad you’re okay too, Clint." Tony said with all the sincerity Clint would ever hear from the man. "Well, you know."

Clint shrugged and grinned at the man. “Walking is overrated anyway. Besides, I get to laze around like this and Phil can’t complain.” He psuedo-whispered to Tony. 

Tony laughed.

Phil smiled from beside his husband, proud. He was very sure that Tony was going to start sending Clint anonymous gifts to try by tomorrow. Clint was going to feel uncomfortable with the gesture but would be too polite to refuse them. 

Phil was going to have to tell Tony to tell Pepper to donate the gifts to a charity or something under Clint’s name instead of sending them insane amounts of stuff.

But of course, that was for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/109981702801/for-the-first-time-in-a-really-long-time-i-think)

**Author's Note:**

> [Can be found here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/87703461136/i-think-im-in-love-with-yet-another-fictional)


End file.
